


Crossed Wires

by fredbassett



Series: Stephen/Ryan series [108]
Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 22:17:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: Sometimes dinosaurs aren’t always the biggest problem that Ryan has to face.





	Crossed Wires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cordeliadelayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/gifts).



“I don’t think this was what Connor had in mind when he said ‘let’s go for a night on the town, it’ll be a blast’,” Ryan said, through gritted teeth. “Now do me a favour, Hart, and fuck off to a safe distance.”

“How far do you recommend?” Stephen asked, staring at the improvised bomb in the wreckage like a rabbit transfixed by a stoat.

“Surrey should be far enough.”

“Not comforting. That’s half an hour’s drive.”

Ryan looked up, feeling the sweat beading on his forehead. “I love you. Now, please, fuck off.” His delivery probably lacked finesse, but he thought that kneeling in the midst of the remains of a suburban bomb-factory that had just been comprehensively trashed by something very large and very heavy probably gave him a free pass in that department.

“I love you too, that’s why I’m not fucking leaving you to do this on your own.” Stephen had a mutinous look on his face that Ryan had learned boded trouble.

“No point in both of us getting blown to bits.” His tact had clearly disappeared around the same time as his finesse.

“Are you sure we can’t wait for the bomb squad?”

Ryan shook his head. “According to Lorraine, their ETA isn’t for another hour. There’s been a sodding great big explosion in Epsom and there’s intel that says there might be another device nearby. I can’t twiddle my thumbs until then. If this goes up, Lorraine’s certain it’s going to take out a gas main and we’ve still got people trapped next door.”

The fucking great big sauropod that had come through an anomaly in a school playing field had done a right number on the small terrace of houses. Unfortunately for the ARC team, one of the occupants had very definitely been in breach of the clause in the tenancy agreement forbidding explosives. On balance, Ryan thought he’d preferred the ankylosaur in the cannabis farm that they’d had to deal with last month. At least then his worst problem had been stopping Finn doing a spot of impromptu gardening. Ryan was already regretting having rejigged the rotas to let Lyle and Blade have a weekend off to go caving. This was more their game than it was his. Lyle actually liked making things go bang and Blade had done two years of ATO training before his move to special forces.

What Ryan didn’t know was why a 16-year-old was building bombs in the first place, but getting to the bottom of that wasn’t his problem. He had thought of dragging the little fucker back in and forcing him to disarm his own contraption at gun point, but a diagnosis of severe concussion had put paid to that plan.

“If you’re staying, pass me the smallest screwdriver we’ve got,” Ryan said, knowing there was no chance of arguing with Stephen when his mind was made up, and right now he needed all his concentration for the device on the floor in front of him.

As the bloody thing had fallen off a table when the chimney stack had come crashing through the upper floor, it was probably a fair bet that the bomb wasn’t fitted with a trembler switch or an anti-tamper device.

Stephen placed the requested screwdriver in his outstretched hand and Ryan started to remove the screws holding the top of the metal box together.

“Let the dog see the rabbit,” he muttered, lifting the lid off as carefully as he could.

A mess of yellow-coated wires looked like a plateful of bilious spaghetti and did nothing to improve his mood.

“Isn’t one of them meant to be red?” Stephen said quietly.

Ryan let out the breath he’d been holding. “You’ve been watching too much TV. Our lad probably just bought this as a job-lot from Maplins.” His headset gave a sudden squawk and Ryan promptly thumbed the off-switch. “Find out what’s going on, will you?” he asked, continuing to stare at the rat’s nest of wires. What he’d seen of the kid’s bedroom made him think that he wasn’t much above Bombs for Beginners, but the world was littered with the body parts of ATOs who’d underestimated their opponents, and he had no intention of making a rookie mistake like that.

He sat back on his heels for a moment and gave Stephen the chance to update him.

“They don’t want to worry us, but something’s on fire next door. They’re going to start using hoses on it. That shouldn’t make any difference in here but they just wanted us to know.”

“Nice of them. Have they got me any intel on that fucking kid yet?”

“No. He’s still out cold. Fiver managed to get a moment alone with him and he says the kid’s not faking.”

Despite the situation, Ryan grinned. Fiver’s butter-wouldn’t-melt looks and easy charm certainly had their uses. What people tended to forget was that you didn’t make it into the SAS without a ruthless streak a mile wide. His ability to hot-wire any car that ever came off a production line was bloody handy as well.

“When he does come round, I want to know where the fuck he got this much PE from.”

Lyle and his caving mates might use a metric fuck-ton of the stuff, but it wasn’t that common outside caving areas and demolition companies. Ryan had already found a large slab of plastic explosive in a metal safe on the floor of the kid’s bedroom. The door had been open and it looked like the little fucker had just finished making his latest toy and had gone downstairs for a brew, leaving everything lying around. A second, smaller safe was closed. Ryan guessed it probably contained detonators. It was usual to store them separately, although he very much doubted these storage arrangements had ever been inspected by the local firearms officer. He knew a lot of parents who gave their kids’ bedrooms a wide berth, but this really was taking the piss.

Ryan stared at the device on the floor, doing his best to work out the various connections, but with the mess of yellow wires, it wasn’t an easy task. It looked a bit like a blind monkey’s attempt to knit a scarf.

A soft exhalation of breath from Stephen made him look up.

“They’ve changed their mind,” he said, clearly having just taken another radio message. “They do want to worry us. The fire has spread to what’s left of the roof timbers above us. They need to start using hoses fast.”

“Try telling them that water and electricity aren’t a good mix.”

Stephen obediently relayed the message. “The fire officer says he knows that, thanks.”

Ryan gave the yellow wires another Paddington Bear hard stare, but they remained obstinately twisted around each other in a passable imitation of the Gordian Knot. He drew in a deep breath. If brute force and ignorance had been good enough for Alexander the Great, it was good enough for him…

He grabbed a handful of wires and yanked hard. They parted company with the PE and the box, leaving behind a large greyish – and fortunately inert – lump.

“Fucking hell!”

Ryan looked up at Stephen and grinned. “I think I got the right wire out.”

“What sort of technique was that, for fuck’s sake?”

“One that worked.” Ryan’s grin widened. “Brown trouser moment, lover boy?”

“Very nearly,” Stephen admitted, his pupils wide with the sudden flush of adrenaline that had no doubt just rushed through him.

Ryan did a final check to make sure that no trigger mechanisms remained connected to the explosives then stood up. His own adrenaline rush had, as usual, gone straight to his cock. He pulled Stephen into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Sod finesse. Stephen’s arms wound around him, pulling their hips together. Ryan could feel the hard length of his lover’s cock against his own. He ground them together knowing it would take fuck all to bring them both to climax. Stephen pushed back, and rolled his hips in a dancer’s movement.

Pleasure flared to bright intensity as heat pooled in Ryan’s guts. He came in a warm rush, Stephen’s mouth silencing him, mindful of the open comms link. A moment later, Stephen drew back and said, in a level voice that gave no hint of the fact that he’d just climaxed, “Yeah, you can start using the hoses, we’re on our way out.”

The pair of them ran from the room and down the stairs, hands entwined. By the time they reached the road, they were both drenched, but that didn’t stop Ryan’s lads giving the pair of them a knowing look, and Ryan could have sworn he saw money changing hands between Fiver and Connor.

Now all he needed was five minutes alone with that fucking kid...


End file.
